


Cherished Memory

by BlackSoulStar



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: An archive warning applies, Boyfriends, Hurt/Comfort, I'm refusing to say, M/M, Support, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:09:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSoulStar/pseuds/BlackSoulStar
Summary: "I could stay awake just to hear you breathingWatch you smile while you are sleepingWhile you're far away and dreamingI could spend my life in this sweet surrender"Memories are one thing that Jean wants to hold onto. He doesn't want to change them, but for one last time, he will allow his memories to be altered, just one more time. What harm could it do?





	Cherished Memory

**Author's Note:**

> An archive warning applies, I just think it ruins the surprise.

Ever so often he thought about  _ him _ , he would think about  _ his  _ smile,  _ his  _ kind personality. He would think about  _ his _ laugh, how deep and meaningful it was. How  _ he _ would laugh at his lame-ass jokes but  _ he _ would laugh like he meant it, because  _ he _ loved his jokes. He thought about the way _ his _ hands would brush against his own, how that little action sent sparks down his spine.

 

His memory was something that he cherished. He cherished  _ his  _ laugh, _ his _ smile, those innocent touches. He didn’t want to tarnish that image. He didn’t want to see _ his  _ once radiant skin, grey and taunt.  _ Him _ one breath away from death. A breath caught in his throat as his eyes looked  _ him _ over. _ His _ smile was just as beautiful. It was somewhat tired like it was hard to keep such a happy expression but it was there.  _ His _ eyes were dull.  _ He  _ was tired.  _ He _ had fought so hard but was giving up. It was the best choice. The only choice.  _ He  _ couldn’t win a losing battle.

 

Jean studied  _ him _ more. He studied the room _ he _ was in. He gave him a smile, trying to hide the pain he felt when he looked at the male that he loved. The one that would slip through his fingers. He approached the cot  _ he _ lay in and held his hand out. He took his hand within his.  _ His _ hand was so bony.  _ He _ already looked like a skeleton, but still, his fingers wrapped around his and he was pulled closer to him. There was still heat in his hand. There was still blood pumping through his body.  _ He  _ was still with him. He took the chair before  _ his _ cot and looked at  _ him _ with a smile.

 

“Hey beautiful,”  _ he  _ spoke.  _ His _ lips were dry and cracked.  _ His  _ voice sore and scratchy but  _ he  _ smiled regardless as he spoke. Jean felt his heart twitch. The man before him was even more beautiful. He was a passive person with a large heart. Always kind. Always considerate. Always generous. He felt something snap in his heart, like an elastic band being plucked against it. The male sat up and coughed, he coughed hard, blood splattering onto his hand that he used to cover his mouth. Once his coughing fit ended, he looked Jean in the eyes with this look that didn’t beg for his pity.

 

That was the thing, that Jean hated. He was so strong and brave and wonderful. He hated how he didn’t want pity. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him. He didn’t want people to make a fuss for him. That was him. He was always thinking of others that it hurt him more than anything.

 

There was a box of tissues on the tiny nightstand by  _ his _ bed. He plucked out a few and handed it to him and helped him clean the blood from his hand, “Jean. I can do this myself,” he protested, his words only a whisper against his ear. His breath was hot against his ear.

 

“I don’t mind helping you,” Jean admitted, scrunching up the tissue and placing it on the bed. “As your boyfriend, I want to help you,” he just nodded his head. “So what was your surprise,” the male smiled a large grin, something he hadn’t seen from him in a long time. He swirled out of the bed and stood up, his legs only two sticks, they were just bones. He took his hand and led him down the white painted corridor.

 

They walked slowly, Jean trying to keep him up as he led him down the hall, every step a huge feat for him. He was breathless as he led him towards his goal. He was shaky on his legs, he looked like Bambi standing for the first time.

 

Jean was led into a small cafeteria, one he had been to many times before, sitting having coffee, waiting. He hated this place. But it was different, the place was empty, the chairs had been shoved to the side. There was a nurse standing in the middle of the room with her phone in her hand.

 

He led Jean over to her and turned to face him as a song began to play. It started off slow and he smiled at Jean, his hands going around his neck as the lights dimmed. He stared at his boyfriend who was grinning at him.

 

Jean put his hands on his hips, he could feel his bones under his palm but he tried to ignore that feeling as he looked at his smiling face. He moved back, and Jean stepped back. They were slow dancing to a slow song.

 

With his fingers in Jean’s hair, he leaned in closer, resting his body against his, his head against his shoulders as their bodies moved together, slowly to the music, “Will you be okay?” He asked, his voice soft against his ear. Jean nodded his head, pulling him in closer to his body.

 

“Of course silly,” his voice got stuck in his throat a little as he spoke, “You’ll get better. You will get better. That’s why I am not worried. You will be fine,” he looked back at Jean, a smile on his lips. He nodded his head. Jean held him close to his body unable to look him in the eyes. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to think of the alternative. He couldn’t. But still he still thought of it, in the back of his mind and he found himself holding him closer as they danced to a slow song.

 

He took a ragged breath trying to force the tears not to fall. They will not fall. He was not going to shed a tear for something that will not happen. He will get better and he will no longer have to look at this crummy hospital. He would never think of this thing. He would get better. He had too! He was too good a person to- He couldn’t think of it.

 

“I love you, Jean,” his voice was soft and filled with emotion. Jean nodded his head.

 

“I love you more than anything in this world. I love you so much. I love that you took that chance on me. I love that you told me you loved me when I denied your love. How foolish of me,” Jean laughed softly thinking when he was told he was liked, by a guy. He let out a smile as the memory washed over him. How he wished to go back to that day. To tell him to go the doctors. 

 

They danced for what felt like for eternity, the two males holding each other in their arms as they danced. He had said that he was feeling better and since he missed their school dance, he wanted one with his boyfriend. Jean couldn’t deny it. He wanted this dance too. His hands fell lower, running down his spine, feeling every single disc as he ran his hand down. His fingertips could feel the base of his ribs. They lowered to his butt that had once been plump in his hand. Nevertheless, he gave it a squeeze and gave his boyfriend a devilish smile that had him chuckling after an escaped gasp parted his lips.

 

“You’re a feisty one. Have I neglected you?” Jean kept his hand on his ass. It was no longer firm in his hand. It was flat, the weight loss also affecting this part of his body. He was kissed on the jaw then on the neck.

 

“Jean Kirstein,” He spoke, his hands going into his hair and tugging on it, “You are the best boyfriend ever. When I get better, I will never neglect you. I will satisfy you,” Jean blushed his eyes glancing away, looking at the nurse who was still in the room holding her phone for the music to play.

 

She wasn’t looking at them, she had her eyes low, allowing them to have a private dance, allowing them to finally have their senior dance, “You say such embarrassing things, sometimes. Imagine what are friends will think if they learned off the things you say to me,” Jean chuckled half-heartedly. He would never tell his friends about what they whispered to each other. Their moments were private and no one was entitled to the embarrassing yet true things they whispered to one another.

 

His boyfriend tittered, “I’m serious. Jean. I will do whatever you want to please you,” Jean gave him another charming smile.

 

“Anything you say. You will do anything to please me...how about,” he leaned closer to his ear, “if you really want to please me, you get better,” The two of them laughed. He laughed loudly then had to stop and bend over to cough, his hands covering his mouth, his body shaking a little.

 

“Jean,” he wheezed. “You are hilarious,” he smiled back at him, blood trickling down his mouth. The nurse ran over to them as he fell to his knees coughing harder. Jean bent down and rubbed his back like it would help. Even if it was just a comfort, he continued to rub his back. The nurse shook her head and helped him to his feet.

 

The nurse and Jean helped him back to his bed, his legs were once, almost dragging him back to bed. Jean helped him into the bed and took his hand, it was still hot. He could still faintly feel his pulse in his hand.

 

“If you need anything, baby, just give me a buzz,” she spoke softly and then stepped out of the room. Jean held his hand. They stayed silent for a while, the two of the content by them just listening to the sound of them breathing. Jean leaned forward and rested his head against his shoulder. He rubbed soothing circles on his chest. Jean closed his eyes when he felt his lips against his mouth. The kiss was not long, but the kiss was passionate. It was loving. It was like their first, it sent sparks down his body. Jean pressed back, kissing him back with the same amount of passion.

 

“Jean, I love you so much. I love you. I love how you have always been my backbone,” Jean was about to speak but he continued. His voice was very hoarse as he spoke. His breathing became shallow, “I love that you have stayed by my side through all of this. I love that you haven’t given up on us. You have traveled to the end of the world for me and I love you more than anything,” his speech got slower, his eyes boring into Jeans. He lifted his head as he spoke staring at his facial features.

 

“Jean,” he spoke quietly, “Thank you,” Jean watched as his eyes rolled back in his head. He watched as his chest stopped moving. He watched as his face went white, void of life. Jean shook his head and rang for the nurse.

 

She ran in within seconds. She looked at the male on the bed and closed her eyes in sadness. She made her way over to them and touched his wrist. Nothing. She shook her head, “Time of death, 23:29,” she spoke softly, her hands going over to his eyes and closing them shut. Jean shook his head as he stared at his boyfriend.

 

Tears didn’t fall that night or the next again night. They didn’t fall for an entire week until someone finally spoke, “Here lies Marco Bott, a man of only 17 years of age who had bravely fought so hard against his cancer. But sadly cancer has beaten us once again and has taken another angel from us.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie, I cried writing the ending. The song in the description is I don't want to miss a thing - Areosmith


End file.
